


The Little Things

by bickz



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:52:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bickz/pseuds/bickz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of fluffy one-shots originally posted on my tumblr a while back. I hope to write more soon</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey’s return has Rythian noticing the little things.

The golden rays of the descending sun creep like vines through the windows and fallen bricks of Blackrock Stronghold. They reach deep into the dark building, consuming the establishment in light. For too long the place has been desolate, silent, dead. Even the monsters that lurk about the building refused to enter, not to mention the teeming vegetation all around. Nothing dared to disturb the dilapidated beauty that housed the lone mage.

Until she returned.

Like a hurricane – no like a hellstorm – she barreled into the ebony walls of Blackrock. She effortlessly breathed life back into the place. The grumpy mage found himself swept off his feet, more taken away by her than ever before. He didn’t realise how much he cherished her until she returned from her absence. He didn’t realise how much he had longed for her until she sashayed those full hips. He didn’t realise how much he adored her until she grinned and laughed at him. Too long, it’s been much too long.

Rythian finds himself walking down the halls of Blackrock looking for his apprentice that afternoon. He can hear her soft murmurs echoing off of the walls and finally pinpoints the noise. Silently, he comes to the entrance of the “magick room” where the spitfire sits cross-legged on the floor. She’s hunched over something with many other components sprawled across the floor around her. The sight is a surprise, something the mage thought he’d never find her doing on her own. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“I just put the glowstone dust here … and then the red stuff. And—“ Zoey cuts off as she swivels her ginger head about in search for something; behind those yellow goggles, her bright eyes are slits in their hunt. “Gosh darn it, where is that lapis lazuli?”

Rythian feels an urge to step forward and pick up the bright blue stone just a few meters from himself but stops. He inches back to shadow of the doorway without a sound and remains there. It’s her turn to figure this magical stuff out. After all, he had to do it on his own. Certainly she can do this if she can do science.

Finally, the girl finds the object of her search and quickly grabs it with a satisfied grin. She goes back to work on her project, whatever it may be. From where he is in the doorway, Rythian is unable to see what her nimble fingers are toiling at. Once more, he’s tempted advance and hover over Zoey per usual and eventually take over her task. However, he prevents himself from doing so by crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

“Okay, so this goes there … and, viola!” Zoey sits back with an accomplished smile across her freckled face. Apparently, she’s accomplished whatever magical deed she came here to do.

The grin on Rythian’s face, having gone unrestrained, has grown into a proud smile creeping into his amethyst orbs. Smoothly, he uncrosses his arms and takes a step forward into the room. His footstep purposefully sounds off of the marble floor, alerting his apprentice. Zoey’s ginger head whips around to blind him with her joyous grin. Clumsily, she stands and brushes off her pants before standing straight and pushing back her goggles. She hides her hands and whatever she was fiddling with behind her back. A distinct difference in the shade of her skin is visible around her big eyes and her sun-kissed cheeks. Rythian seems to always notice little things like that these days.

“Rythian! I have something for you~” the girl greets him enthusiastically.

The mage furrows his brow a bit in curiosity. “What is it?” He’s never been very good with surprises.

“Close your eyes,” Zoey orders him, bringing a hand from behind her back to hold in front of his perturbed gaze.

“Zoey, I don’t think this is—“

“Just do it.” The fire in her golden eyes extinguishes all protest.

Reluctantly, Rythian’s orbs flutter close. He’s tempted to open them, but Zoey’s warm palm suddenly covers his lids to prevent him from doing so.

“Okay, hold out your hand.”

The mage’s hand timidly rises from his side. An abrupt coolness touches his palm and he pulls his head away from Zoey’s hand to see. She’s beaming at Rythian as he peers down at the Life Stone in his hand. In his palm sits a smooth rock with a pink gem glowing in its center. The handiwork on the runes of the stone isn’t highly detailed – obviously done by an amateur – but is intricate and unique. That proud grin turns the man’s eyes into cresents as he admires the artifact, and Zoey instantly picks up on his esteem.

“You like it? I thought since you gave me yours that you’d need a new one because I know how you don’t care for my mushroom stew and—“

“Thank you,” Rythian interrupts her quietly. He looks up from the stone to see her flustered face. “You did a good job on it.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” the ginger stammers as she glances away nervously. Receiving such earnest approval from her master is a rare occurrence.

“See? You can do magick. It’s really not as difficult as you make it out to be,” the mage insists eagerly.

Zoey mumbles a bit, incoherent words spilling from her lips. Rythian recognizes this response from a few days ago when she begrudgingly made her own Swiftwolf’s Rending Gale. He rolls his eyes at her reluctant response, but a grin still plays on his lips.

The mage steps closer and pats his apprentice’s head gently. “Okay, that’s enough for today. Clean up your mess, it’s time for bed.”

The redhead glances up at him before turning back to the many ingredients ranging from red matter to sugar canes scattered about. She sputters some more, hunching her shoulders over with a pout. Rythian just shakes his head and crosses his arms as he turns to leave the girl to her fit. In the doorway, he pauses and faces Zoey as she bends to pick up something to replace in the alchemical chest. The smile on his face broadens again, his heart fluttering with the knowledge that she’s finally back. She’s finally here with him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the dynamic duo’s first night together after Zoey’s return.

Night came a few hours ago, enveloping Blackrock Stronghold in its ominous grip. Shadows hold reign over the basalt brick corridors, the sun nowhere in sight to battle them back. The castle is deathly silent, the only noise being that of moaning from the wind outside. Gentle breathing abruptly permeates the stillness and echoes through the halls. The shadows seem to stop to listen intently, curious as to what could be making such a serene sound amongst the darkness.

Zoey lays sprawled on the four-poster bed in the master bedroom. The once gaping ceiling of the chamber has been hastily patched with some wood for the night until a more permanent fix can be made. Despite the hazard of sleeping beneath a rickety roof, the girl is enveloped in her dreams without a care. The shabby covers have long since been kicked from her full frame in her usual sleep-induced spasms. Now, her hair lies is a mess about her round face like a vibrant carnation. Her small chest heaves steadily with each quiet breath; such an innocent and precious sight in a world of chaos and violation.

On light feet, Rythian finally makes his way up the marble stairs. He had been fussing about in the magick room, attempting to organize their materials now that he can finally focus on something other than his fury. So wrapped up in revenge, the mage had entirely forgotten about his desire for order and simplicity; he’s let Blackrock Stronghold crumble around him as an epitome of his internal struggle with Zoey’s absence. Now that she’s returned, everything can go back to normal, albeit with a few changes. But he can manage as long as she’s here.

Rythian enters the doorway of the main bedroom. He hasn’t spent much time in here, even after the sleeping beauty’s homecoming. He is continuously ravaged with the bitter memories of his torment after she left whilst all thoughts of the time spent here before then have been forgotten. Despite her slumbering on the bed, the still mage isn’t sure if he can withstand the trauma he’s encountered here. He may have to resort to his cupboard of a bedroom for another lonely night.

Suddenly, Zoey stirs in her sleep. Rythian raises a brow curiously, taking a step further into the room. The girl’s freckled arms seem to be reaching for something next to her as she turns to her side. But her small hands grab nothing and her face contorts into discontent. Her lips move and a quiet sound escapes on her breath. From where he stands, the mage can’t make out her words. Driven by his increasing unease, Rythain ventures further into the dark chamber.

“Rythian … “

The man’s eyes widen and he stops mid-step. She said his name. Does Zoey know he’s here? How could she? Her eyes are shut tight. Suddenly, realization dawns upon Rythian. Warmth seeps up his neck and to his cheeks as he relaxes his tensed stance. She’s just dreaming – about him.

Another whispered “Rythian” penetrates the silence and the mage’s mind. He remains standing where he is, contemplating getting into bed with Zoey and risking waking her or returning to his own sad closet room. He could continue to avoid confrontation with her, and in turn proceed to suppress his longing for her. It’s easier that way, to just bottle everything up, just sweep it under the carpet. This thought causes Rythian to furrow his brow thoughtfully and clench his hands. But before he can decide to turn away and escape, the girl breathes his name again.

Silently, the mage crosses the room to the bed. He looms over Zoey for a moment, admiring her childish posture. Her round cheeks are flush with her youth and Rythian is reminded of how many years he has on her. The ginger’s juvenile antics have been keeping his mind young, but he can’t deny how long he has really walked this world. The grey of old age has begun to permeate his dark hair, and he fears what Zoey will think when she registers his seniority.

When the girl moves in her sleep once more, Rythian is jolted from his thoughts and allows a small smile to cross his face. He leans over Zoey and pushes some stray crimson tendrils from her face. She emits a sigh and the mage feels his face get ruddy. Carefully, Rythian maneuvers himself into the empty space next to the sleeping ginger. He’s anxious about the weight distribution on the mattress disturbing her slumber, but relaxes when she remains unconscious.

As if on cue, Zoey rolls closer to the mage and her clutching hands finally connect with something solid – Rythian. His eyes go wide in astonishment and he freezes, not knowing how to go about this situation. The girl mumbles again, her voice coming out as almost a moan. The man is horrorstruck. He can’t handle this, not right now. This is too much too soon. The ginger’s breathy utterances of his name fuel the flame under his tanned flesh and it spreads throughout his body. A sensation like he’s never felt before sinks into his pelvis, further frightening him.

“Zoey?” Rythian whispers, his voice coming out nearly frantic.

No response.

Carefully, the man calms himself and grabs Zoey’s small hands. He pulls them from his waist so he can bend forward and remove his boots. The ginger’s hands remain to herself until Rythian uneasily stretches out next to her. Once more, she reaches over and this time her knuckles connect with his nose.

“Jesus Christ,” the mage grumbles, pushing her hand away. He’s forgotten how restless Zoey is in her deep sleep. But fortunately, the shock of pain scares away the unsettling warm sensation from earlier.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t wake up. Rythian rolls his eyes in exasperation. Getting accustomed to the spitfire’s antics all over again is going to be difficult, but he’ll have to start somewhere. Cautiously, the mage pulls the covers over Zoey and himself. Although he knows she’ll just end up kicking them off once more, he does it out of affectionate instinct. Finally, Rythian settles on his side next to the girl, his eyes half-lidded and a sleepy smile spreading across his lips. He didn’t realise how exhausted he is until just now; he’s been too busy fussing over the ginger and learning how to be a person all over again. It’ll take time, but the mage is certain that things will begin to look up with Zoey around now.


End file.
